


Spark

by kkscatnip (autohaptic)



Series: Blood Tells [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Femdom, Fire, Fluff, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Kissing, Magic, Mentors, Naked Cuddling, Older Woman/Younger Man, Sexual Inexperience, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 16:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autohaptic/pseuds/kkscatnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moyra teaches Ardal about the spark of life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spark

In the mornings Moyra woke me up and told me to put wood on the fire. She demanded I come back to bed after, because apparently I was warm as a fire myself and she quite liked it. 

I'd never shared a bed this small with anyone before, so I hadn't known. But it felt like a compliment, and I was happy to have her wrap her arms around me and press a kiss against my cheek. She had very purposefully not kissed me at all the first few days, but now six days later, the snow from the blizzard half-melted, she did that much. 

My cock got hard, of course, because the wind blowing would make my cock hard, much less something like Moyra pressed against me.

Her eyes caught mine, dark green in the low light of the room--the sun was only just beginning to rise. I almost said please, but my breath caught and I couldn't force any words out. She slid her leg between mine, the top of it pressing unsubtly against my cock. 

Instead of speaking, I groaned, burying my face against the comparatively soft flesh of her chest. 

Sounds. She liked sounds. Make sounds, I thought, and whimpered when she moved away again, chuckling. "You make me feel young again," she confessed. "I had to indulge. You were too adorable." 

I blushed, even beyond the flush of arousal. She tangled her fingers in my hair and pulled my head back, slow smile spreading over her lips. 

"Thought so," she said, words low, and pressed her lips against mine. 

Of course I wanted to come at that, at the decisiveness and the way she thrust her tongue in my mouth, pulled my hair, held me trapped in her arms. But I clamped down on it, knowing inherently that as soon as I came this would end. 

And then she grabbed my hip, pulling me against her, making me grind against her hip. If it had just been me doing that, it probably wouldn't have been very hot, but the forcefulness, the unrelenting expectation that I'd do as she ordered, and she bit my lip and--well, you can guess what happened next. 

She chuckled, low and sultry, as I shook, holding onto her arms, letting her rock my hips against hers all through the orgasm. Before long I started to gasp and twitch, oversensitized; she let my hips go back down against the bed when I began to whine helplessly, not even capable of forming words. 

Before I'd even finished shaking she crawled over me, finding one of her rags and wiping my come off of her bare hip. 

I wished I hadn't been right about that.

*

We'd spent the time since she agreed to teach me with Moyra trying to teach me that fire was in everything. Everything! All of the elements came together, kit and caboodle, even if most people could only manipulate one element. 

Most fire wizards could manipulate molten lava, though, and it was made of liquid stone. And wind wizards could shape and dissolve clouds, even though clouds were water--it went on and on, but I was having trouble with the idea that fire was in plants and animals. 

"It's not called the _spark_ of life for no reason," she said, not for the first time. "Put your hands on the sapling and call the fire inside of it to yours. You'll see." 

The problem was that I hadn't, so far. And when I closed my eyes and touched the sapling and called the best way I knew how, nothing happened. Maybe a little low throbbing, but not a fire. Not a spark. 

After a morning of unsuccessfully trying to feel the fire in everything, we ate lunch, sitting for the first time in a week outside in the area where I had camped. We had little stools, because the ground was damp from the melting snow, but it was nice to sit out in the sunlight, even if it was winter sun. 

"I love the sun," I said, absently, tilting my head toward it and letting the heat wash over me. Not anywhere near as warm as summer, but warmer than the last few days. 

When I opened my eyes, Moyra had a look in her eye that meant she had an idea. "The sun is fire, too."

Was it? I closed my eyes and faced the sun again, trying to do that reaching-out thing that Moyra had half taught me. (The other half was my own fumbling, because she said you could only teach the concept, not the execution of it.)

It took a couple minutes, but I began to feel the heat washing through me. Not just on my skin where the skin shone, but on my back, my hands, my feet. Everywhere. 

Behind my eyes, a great burning ball scorched me, drawn to me like a cat to cream. Or was I the cat and it the cream? I didn't know, but I understood, really understood, what Moyra meant by the fire in other things reaching out and feeling the fire in me. 

"Get it?" she asked, and touched my arm, pulling her hand back quickly and shaking it as she grinned. "I'm going to assume yes; your skin is burning up."

I only felt pleasantly warmed, though. I guessed I'd never freeze again, at least not during the day. 

And I wasn't sure that I'd be able to feel fire in a tree the same way, but I had my breakthrough. It was worth it. I grinned at her, made bold by my accomplishment. "Does this mean I get more sex?" 

Her return grin said _yes_.


End file.
